Late Nights, Blondes & Endorphins
by Santiva Potter
Summary: Summary: After a late night phone call, Santana and Mercedes meet up for a classic chick flick, junk food and Sam. Part 1 of 3. Inspired by the new Michael promo. Mercedes/Santana friendship Samcedes/Brittana


**Disclaimer**: I do not own anything of Glee

**Late Nights, Blondes & Endorphins**

**By: Santiva Potter**

**Summary: **_After a late night phone call, Santana and Mercedes meet up for a classic chick flick, junk food and Sam. _

_(Based off of the Sam/Mercedes kiss in 3X11 promo)._

_Part 1 of 3. Samcedes/Brittana_

* * *

><p>"You did <em><strong>what<strong>_?"

For once, Santana Lopez wasn't trying to sound like a bitch, but she'd be damned if this conversation with Mercedes continued with the former mumbling all night.

"I kissed Sam."

Santana released a dramatic sigh and leaned back against her sheets. If this had been any other person—especially the Hobbit—she would have ripped them a new one for calling at 2 am—but Mercedes…shit. Ever since witnessed the diva crack after preforming for Mr. Shue, she had been silently waiting for this and even worse, she owed Mercy. When her abuela had kicked her to the curb, it was Mercy who came, picked her up, brought her to Brittany and then let the two of them crash at her place. Damn Mercedes and her big fucking heart.

"I'll be at your place in 5."

There was one good thing about a friendship with Mercy: her house was a movie lover's paradise. The second longest wall in their basement was devoted to all the greats in film—the longest was devoted to the television. Another staple was the fact that Santana _knew _that Mercedes would never spill her favorite movie—_Legally Blonde—_ to anyone. She hadn't even gotten around to telling Brittany that.

"Did you kiss him back?" Santana asked softly, an hour into the film, her eyes still glued to the wall of television. They were sitting in the basement of the Jones' rather impressive home. No one knew they were down there, wrapped in quilts and blankets, smothering themselves with buttered pop corn and white chocolate icecream—Mercedes' choice, Santana didn't even want to know _where _she'd found that one.

Like her Troubletone sister, Mercedes eyes stayed steady on the TV as she nodded. It was a good part too.

"_Oh, I like your outfit too, except when I dress up as a frigid bitch, I try not to look so constipated."_

Mercedes cracked a smile at Santana's surprisingly accurate impersonation of the blonde law student.

"Don't be like that," Santana sassed. "You act as if all Trouty and I did was lock lips."

That nearly sent Mercedes over the edge. "Are you saying that _you _and Sam swapped impersonations?" Tears were starting to build as Mercedes continued to chuckle before slowly realizing that she had never had such a lighthearted conversation about the Southern Blonde since his return.

"Please," Santana rolled her eyes. "I was referring to the damage that was done to my hearing because I had to _listen _to them—_all _of them."

After a few moments, the laughter died down and Mercedes reverted back to the television.

"What'd it feel like—you know to you, because when he was kissing me—_God—_second to the horror that is Finn Hudson."

Mercedes smiled fondly, but didn't respond until Santana reached between the mass of blankets and turned off the television. Mercy side-glanced her for a moment before beginning her tale. Santana thought that she was in for "fireworks" or some "heavenly" feeling but leave it to Mercy to start going on about a some lake that she and Sam had often graced during the summer. She rambled for awhile about the warmth of the sun, the lingering touch of his calloused fingers, the stillness of the lake and the brightness of his smile. The peace of it all.

"It felt like that all over again," she finished softly.

"You know," Santana began a few moments later, "you're not a bad person for kissing him."

"Santana, I cheated. It goes against everything that I stand for. I never wanted to be that girl."

"One slip, one kiss and now you're some sick adulterous cheater? Seriously Mercedes?" Santana answered. "Tell me you love Shane more than Sam."

"I love Shane more than Sam," Mercedes repeated monotonously.

"Wanna try that again? With some emotion, because you sound like you're talking about your love of diet soda and not your love life."

"Can we talk about some thing else, please."

"Sure," Santana shrugged. "Let's get back to the movie, go back to school tomorrow and you can go back to drowning yourself in misery about Sam and Shane until you do something that's much more deserving of your new title. You want to go through heartbreak and hell for the next five months, be my guest, Merc, but don't call me again at 2 am because of it."

Santana raised her arm to turn the television back on but thought better of it. "Listen, when I first told Brittney that I loved her she was still with Artie and she wouldn't leave him. I spent the entire year trying going from guy to guy trying to convince myself that I was a happy straight normal girl—all the while letting the only person who really understands me fall in love with someone else. I like you Wheezy, that's why we're friends, that why I'm _here_. I don't want you to go through that pain when you realize how deep you've fallen for Sam."

Santana turned the back on after that and didn't bring up the matter again. Sometime during the film, Mercedes scooted closer to the Latina and leaned against her shoulder.

"_Exercise gives you endorphins, endorphins make you happy. Happy people just don't shoot their husbands." _

"Why do I get the feeling that I'm looking at Brit's future?"

Laughter filled the den again.

The following morning, Santana strutted down the halls of McKinley, her hands on her hips and her scowl perfectly in place. Lesbian or not, she owned this school and was happy to remind any pea-head of that fact. Besides she could smell a bad day coming.

Once she reached her locker, she went straight for the mirror and out of the corner of her eye, noticed a colorful miniature gift bag. Taking a peak inside, Santana was met by the sight of Mercedes' famous double chocolate chip cookies, shaped into bite-sized balls—the only balls that they had once joked that Santana would ever put in her mouth.

_Found some extra endorphins this morning, _a note read. _Here's to not shooting our future husbands! _

A small smile reached Santana's lips as she closed her locker, the gift bag in hand and made her way down the hall.

_Maybe today will—_

Her positive train of thought was ruined by a squealing Kurt, flanked as always by Mr. I-can't-wear-full-length-pants, who latched himself onto Santana's right arm.

"You're touching me." Santana frowned.

"Really Santana? We're on the same side here."

Tina Cohen-Chang had arrived behind them, putting a hand on her shoulder—until a quick side glance suggested otherwise—and smiling brightly. "It's Mercedes."

"What about her?"

"Have you not _seen _her?" Kurt gushed. "She looks so much happier, smiling and going on about endorphins and now _look_!"

He pointed down the hall to where Mercy stood talking to the bulldozer. He was frowning at her, arguing intently, but she seemed firm in her stance. She knew that look, knew that stance, that argument.

_Bye Bye Bubba!_

Santana didn't verbally respond, instead she slipped out of Kurt's grasp and continued down the hall. She spotted Sam along the way, with the leprechaun and the Dancing Asian.

"Hey Guppy Lips, you'll want these," Santana stated nonchalantly, tossing the goodie bag to her ex.

She could hear Sam's confusion as she passed but Santana tuned him out, she had caught glance of more important things.

"Tana."

Brittany smiled brightly as she reached Santana. Returning the smile, Santana offered her right pinky and together the two of them glided to their next period.

* * *

><p>Hope you all enjoyed Part 1!<p>

Much Love,

Santiva Potter


End file.
